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1 How dear is the thought, that the angels of God,
May bow their bright wings to the world they once trod;
Will leave the sweet songs of the mansions above,
To breathe o'er our bosoms some message of love.
2 They come, on the wings of the morning they come,
Impatient to lead some poor wanderer home;
Some pilgrim to save from his darkened abode,
And lay him to rest in the arms of his God.
3 They come when we wander, they come when we pray,
In mercy to guard us wherever we stray;
A glorious cloud, their bright witness is given;
Encircling us here these angels of heaven.
Source: The Morning Stars Sang Together: a book of religious songs for Sunday schools and the home circle #48
First Line: | How cheering the thought, that the spirits in bliss |
Author: | J. W. Cunningham |
Language: | English |
Copyright: | Public Domain |